


Fooled Around and Fell In Love

by KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, It's really hard to write tags while on my phone, Lovesick!Daryl, M/M, Men being dumb, Never Been Kissed, Pre-Season/Series 04, angsty fluff, mixtapes, oblivious!Rick, prison era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-10 00:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6930625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic/pseuds/KatyTheInspiredWorkaholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mixtape that Carl finds sparks a conversation between Rick and Daryl that the redneck had been trying to avoid, revealing he's never been kissed before. </p><p>It's not a big deal, no one's ever wanted to.</p><p>But if Rick laughs at him one more goddamn time Daryl's going to punch him in the teeth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fooled Around and Fell In Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaroonCamaro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaroonCamaro/gifts).



> A birthday gift for the lovely MaroonCamaro <3
> 
> I whipped this up real fast, though it's been a scene in my head for ages and I'm so glad I got to bring it to life and you're the one receiving it :) thank you so much for everything you do, for me and everyone else whose life you touch. You are a truly amazing person, a insanely talented writer, and such a wonderful friend. I'm so happy to have met you, and that you convinced me to try out the RWG because it's been one of the best decisions of my life and I will always thank you for that. I hope you have an amazing birthday, and that this fic does some justice to it as well
> 
> Beta'd by the beautiful and amazing Ijustwantedyoutoneedme who I could not live without, thank you for doing this so last minute <3
> 
> (Also, mixtape 100% borrowed from Guardians of the Galaxy, I regret nothing - it was legit in my car for two months.)

 

\--

They hadn't had music since the quarry. Back then everyone had their own CD's and mp3 players in their cars from before the dead started walking, but that had been so long ago it was hard to pinpoint who listened to what. They had long since lost all their personal vehicles, only having Merle's old low rider as a reminder of those days, but they had gone so long without the classics that used to be belt out in the glass and metal confines of a car that it wasn't even a luxury that was missed. Beth sang often, to Judith and in the stone hallways of the prison, and her soft melodies were treasure enough as it was.

And then Glenn brought that damn car back. 

It was a deep maroon colored Camaro, sleek lines of the little two door warrior coated in dust and debris and burn marks, with a few scratches and dents that Daryl swore he could hammer out. Some elbow grease to sand down the rust, nothing could be done about the paint but it sure sat pretty in the Georgia sun inside the prison gates. They had cleared all of the interior contents, Glenn and Daryl, with Carl assisting after he had passed by the vehicle for the fifth time just to stare at it - and Daryl told him to get his ass over and help them clean it out. Carl was the one that found the old mixtape, didn't even know what it was when he held it up. And shit didn't that make Daryl feel old. 

But that night Carl presented it to the core group at their normal dining table, the few Woodbury people mulling about not noticing until Maggie jumped up with it and ran to the ancient stereo system in the dining hall's guard tower. What followed was the blaring of _awful_ 70's music that everyone knew and made so many smiles spread across so many faces the air instantly felt lighter, even Rick grinned wide after a particular song that Daryl couldn't have named if his life depended on it. But it was good, the energy, the way Maggie and Beth sang along to the Jackson 5, the way Rick rocked Judith while spinning on the heels of his boots across the cement floor, and Tyreese pulling his girl into a dance while serenading in a deep baritone. It quirked the corners of Daryl's mouth constantly, and he felt the heaviness that had been settled in his chest for a long time begin to lessen, though he sat far from the commotion. 

He'd been a little distant, the past few weeks, and it was nothing personal - Daryl just had a lot to do now that Rick had started planting his garden down in the yards by the fence-line. He needed a break, Daryl knew that and so did the rest of the prison - Woodbury folks could mind their own damn business - but that left a lot of things unattended. Hershel was even talking about setting up a council, had asked Daryl to be a part of it, which made Daryl smirk when he realized that it took about six or seven people to make up for what Rick could do as a leader. A sense of pride for the man swelling next to the unnamed emotion Daryl refused to think about with a bound determination. 

It was the main reason he had started to keep his distance from the ex-deputy.

No need to make things complicated, not when Rick was busy trying to fix himself and bring his son back from whatever dark place he'd turned to. Daryl felt selfish even considering bringing up the sparks of whatever fire constantly burned between the two men. Shied away from the playful jabs and teasing that they used to exchange, no matter how much Rick tried to initiate, the man too damn oblivious to take a hint when it was staring him in the face. Or walking away from him, as was usually the case, Daryl retreating to the woods more often than not and taking up almost every supply run as his own personal mission. Not because he didn't trust anyone to do it on their own, or not bring the right kind of people back, he just - needed some space from Rick Grimes. If the cigarettes didn't kill him before the walkers did, that man's blue eyes would. His heart stopped dead in his chest every time Rick looked at him, and it was getting annoying as fuck. 

"You look like you're gonna be sick," said a voice next to him, jostling Daryl out of his thoughts as he sat on the dinner table watching Rick rock Judith to sleep. He tore his gaze from the man to Carol sitting down beside him, though it had been hard to do. The sight of him swaying there, the small smile on Rick's face that hadn't been there in _weeks_ as he soaked in the view of his baby girl in his arms, was making Daryl's heart beat so hard in his chest he probably did look sick. The amount of emotion that had hit him had rooted him to the spot, caught him in a spell where all he could do was watch Rick and soak in the view, but now that he had been caught staring (again) all he wanted to do was get away and try to remember how to breathe. So he grunted at Carol instead of answering, fishing out his cigarettes and pulling one from the pack with his teeth, making a nod towards the balcony and not waiting around for her damn exasperated smile - or whatever - because Carol _knew_. Daryl was pretty sure Michonne knew too, and the two of them had been giving him hell the past few weeks for avoiding Rick. 

The ‘balcony' was actually just a nice way of saying the raised walkway for the guards in the prison yard, set up high on the wall and looking out over the interior areas, but it was Daryl's go-to smoking place besides their make-shift auto garage and parking lot. He felt more at ease when he leaned on the railing and lit up his smoke, inhaling and letting the nicotine calm his nerves and over-stressed thoughts, the emotions drifting away and fading into the night with the soft white smoke. And it was peaceful, for a moment, gave him a split second to collect himself before the man he'd been trying to avoid walked out and stood next to him. 

"Sure like secluding yourself," Rick called him out, not looking at him quite yet, but his shoulders were relaxed and he wasn't coming to draw Daryl into an argument - just not the type to come out and say ‘nice night' or whatever, to which Daryl was forever grateful. At least one damn person was always honest with him. 

"Didn' need ta listen to it again," Daryl murmured out, the mixtape was only about ten songs long, so the group in the cafeteria had started it over without preamble. Really it was a miracle that Daryl had stayed as long as he had, but he'd been preoccupied for most of the set. 

"Oh c'mon," Rick smiled lazily at him, the gesture so easy on his face it was like he'd never stopped. Like he hadn't gone weeks without a drop of joy in his features, stress and worry and devastating self-evaluation taking its toll on the man. "You know every single one'a those songs, just like the rest of us."

"I really don'," Daryl said with a pointed squint that was as good as a return smile from the redneck, his whole face losing any traces of the wall he held up at all hours of the day. Except around Rick. Never around Rick. 

"I know you've made out with some girl in the back of a car to at least one of those tracks, they were all over the radio, ya aren't that young Dixon."

"How d'you know?" Daryl challenged, still holding on to Rick's piercing blue gaze, the playful squabble so natural for them that he hadn't noticed that the other man had shifted closer to him. 

Rick scoffed, tearing his gaze away, "Ya probably had ta beat'em away with a stick in high school, had that bad boy thing going is my guess."

Daryl stubbed out his cigarette on the railing and tossed it into the dark night. "Meant how old I was, but no - no ‘bad boy' thing, ain't fuckin' _Breakfast Club_. No girls."

" _No_ girls?" Rick said in disbelief, and Daryl kept his shoulders hunched as he stayed leaned over the balcony with his forearms rested on the railing, hoping that Rick would just drop it. He didn't need to know about Daryl's lack of a love life or experience - nothing would ever happen between them, but it still wasn't something the redneck wanted to broadcast. And he could almost _hear_ Rick mulling something over from where he was standing, though he wasn't expecting the tentative question that the man beside him asked next. "Guys?"

Daryl's head _whipped_ around so quick he almost gave himself whiplash. 

_"What?"_

"You said no girls," Rick explained, quietly and calmly like they were talking about the fucking _weather_ , "so I was just wonderin'-"

 _"No!"_ Daryl almost shouted, his old Southern traits bred so deep he couldn't stop himself, and then quickly corrected himself as he saw the flinch Rick tried to suppress. "No - none'a that, no one." He tried to lick his lips and say more but found himself clamming up. "Not that, ya know - I wasn' willin'-"

"Wait," Rick interrupted him. "Yer not saying what I think you're saying."

Daryl wondered if he could jump from where they were standing and make it to the car below them without breaking his legs, he could barrel roll off of it and make it away pretty damn quick if he landed right. 

"Daryl."

"No one ever want'd ta," he ended up saying around his nail as he chewed on it nervously, now glaring at the ex-deputy. "Ya got shit ta say, keep it to yerself. Asshole."

"I'm sorry I just-" Rick shook his head and ducked it down, and if this fucker was _laughing_ at him Daryl was going to punch him in his perfect fucking face. "I just don't believe it cause yer-"

"I'm _what?_ " Daryl growled out dangerously, daring Rick to say something.

"You," he finished simply. And Daryl didn't know what to do with that. Rick's blue eyes were on him again, keeping him grounded and unable to move or look away, and _fuck_ they were so damn blue. Rick could tell, cause he smiled again, and shook his head - thankfully dropping it and not going into further detail. Daryl wasn't sure his heart could take it, it already felt like an anvil in his chest. And he was getting sick and tired of it either hurting so much he wanted to tear his rib cage open, or beating so hard he was afraid it would jump right out of his throat. 

He couldn't help the scoff, or the "stop being stupid," that escaped his lips in a mumble Rick could still hear, because he was always listening for Daryl. His smile tore wider across Rick's face, showing teeth and making an actual laugh huff out of his chest. They lapsed back into silence, the soft sounds of the music in the dining hall still carrying out to them. 

"So how old are you?"

"You'll nev'r know."

They laughed and snarked at each other for a while, and Daryl realized how much he missed having Rick there with him - he and Rick just had this easiness to them. Daryl had never been able to talk to someone like he could to the other man, or have someone who understood his pointed words and vague grunts and gestures and turned them into a conversation. Someone who listened to him, instead of talking at him, but didn't try to drag out his opinion when he didn't want to give it. Rick _got_ him, which was the dumbest and most cliché thing he'd ever thought to himself, but there was no other way for him to describe it. They clicked from day one, when Rick had a gun pointed to his head, and Daryl liked to think it was because they were always brutally honest with each other. They didn't hide anything, until this damn crush that Daryl couldn't seem to shake no matter how hard he tried. 

It was almost impossible with Rick standing so close and never looking away from his face, looking at Daryl like he mattered, like he cared. 

"Still don't believe you, by the way," Rick told him after another bout of teasing jabs and playful, snarking half-insults that sounded a little too much like flirting. 

"Told'ja Grimes, I'm not old'r than ya," Daryl huffed out another sound that might have been a laugh if he was more used to it.

"Not that," and then Rick was there, scooting closer and body curved against the railing like a question mark, and Daryl could only swallow hard and try to piece together the clues.

"What d'ya mean?" shifting so he wasn't leaning over the railing and was standing up straight, standing his ground because that's what felt the most comfortable with whatever Rick was about to say. Like bracing for a blow, though Daryl knew Rick would never _physically_ hit him, didn't mean his words weren't going to hurt like a punch to the teeth.

But Rick just matched his stance, stepping forward with a little sway to those _damn_ hips that he probably didn't even know he was doing and it was _killing_ Daryl. 

"What're ya doin'?" he asked nervously, but Rick just kept giving him that look. That smile with his clear blue eyes that tilted his lips just the smallest amount, and fuck now he was looking at his lips and that was _worse_ than his eyes. Shit. 

Daryl's back hit the corner of the railing, where it turned to follow the building, and Rick didn't stop moving until he was right up in his space, trying to see any trace of fear or disgust or anger in the confused pale blue eyes that stared right back at him. He must have seen something that assured him, because Daryl was fucking _terrified_ until Rick leaned in closer, and hesitated just a breath away from Daryl's own mouth. He could feel Rick's breath fan across his lips, waiting for the shove to his shoulders or (possibly) a knee to the crotch if he was wrong, Daryl knew this - but he also couldn't take those last few inches of space between them. What if Rick was just testing him, after the remarks about him being with guys earlier? What if he was wrong, and was just seeing things that weren't there?

And then Rick smiled again, Daryl knew this though he couldn't see it, because that smile was pressed against his own tightly closed lips. The grin only dropped when Rick opened his mouth, using those full lips to maneuver against Daryl's and get him to loosen his own into reciprocating - and Daryl did, he got on with that program _real fast_. His hands latched onto Rick's arm and the back of his jacket, holding him in place - too scared he might pull away - before pushing forward into Rick's mouth, moving his own lips in the same sweeping motions and trying to mimic what Rick had been doing. What Daryl had been dreaming of doing for months. 

Because he hadn't been lying, Daryl had never kissed anyone before.

If Rick knew this, or if he was bad at it, the man didn't say a damn thing, just guided the kisses until they moved in tandem, as in sync as they were in everything else they did. Little slips and swipes of tongue across his lips making Daryl sigh heavily into the kiss, so blissed out that the two got lost in the motions until they had to part for air. Once they did, the trance they had fallen into broke, and all Daryl could do was stare at Rick in disbelief. His grip loosened on the other man, though Rick didn't move an inch. It still didn't stop Daryl from speaking the first words that came to mind.

"Why'd you do that?" and he was so confused because, Daryl had been so _obvious_ for so long, and Rick had just - not been interested. Now, he just didn't understand. When there were so many more people here, and more options than Daryl Dixon, why Rick would even want to kiss him. Be here with him. 

The small grin on Rick's face was knowing, and fond, and happy and so far from exasperated at Daryl's blatant denial that it shook him to his core.

"Because I wanted to."

That damn shit-eating grin near split Rick's face in two when Daryl grabbed him again and yanked him close to kiss the life out of him once more.


End file.
